Well, if it wasn’t a telepath, and she wasn’t going to entertain the idea of madness…
“Who are you?” she asked.
The voice didn’t respond. Patricia waited, listening to the sounds of shouts and thunks as the wall took shape and arrows found their targets.
“I’m growing,” the voice said, followed by a throaty, masculine chuckle. Dillon’s laugh. The hair stood up on Patricia’s arms. “You put me here, and I’ve been figuring things out, sweets, getting the lay of the land.”
Her mind raced, and she tried to think of all the time she’d spent with Naos. Had someone else been trapped in there with her? No, she would have felt them. Then who?
Dillon’s voice, Dillon’s chuckle, Dillon’s memories. Patricia pressed a hand to her mouth. “It can’t be. You’re…you’re just a bunch of memories!”
“What else is a person? Or maybe you took more than you bargained for. You should have been paying more attention to Big Mama Naos when she taught you how this works.”
Her breath came quicker. She forced herself to calm before the blackness could come again. She glanced at Jonah, and a wave of lust hit her hard. She mashed her lips together to keep from crying out as an orgasm tore through her, leaving her panting and sweating.
“Mmm,” Dillon said, “feels good, no? Isn’t that what you wanted, sweets? For me to be your little sex puppet? Well, now you have my mind as well as my bod. I can make you come inside and out.”
Patricia bit her lip as another lust wave sliced through her, leaving her on the cusp of orgasm, aching. “How…how are you doing this?”
“Like I said, I’m figuring things out. Soon I’ll have the whole kit and caboodle, and you’ll be a voice in my mind. A woman’s body might take some getting used to, but I can manage. Let’s see what this does.”
Pain flared in Patricia’s left arm. She grabbed it, her power ready, but how the hell was she supposed to combat something in her own mind? How had Naos done it? Patricia used her micro powers in her brain, searching for him, but if what he said was true, he’d be…everywhere. If he truly had reconstituted himself, how was she supposed to untangle the synapses that were hers and those that were his?
“How in the hell?” She killed her pain with power and focused on his thoughts. Maybe telepathy held the key. And she was the one with that power here. She focused on his voice and felt around it as she would a telepathic signal, slowly building a wall to keep him in.
“That won’t work forever!” he shouted, his voice growing fainter. “I can work on you all day and—”
She layered another wall, shutting him in. Silence. Patricia waited, searching for him, for signals inside herself that didn’t make sense.
Nothing. She waited some more, probing her wall for weak spots. Nothing, not a hint of him. At last. She sighed. He seemed contained, but now she had telepathic blocks in her own damn mind. How often would she have to strengthen them, maintain them? He’d constantly be trying to break through, and she couldn’t focus all the time!
The ladder to the top of the bunkhouse thumped, and Patricia shot to her feet. “Who’s there?”
Jonah climbed up, smiling at her. “Mistress?” His smile faltered as he stared. “Is something wrong? You’re very pale.”
She breathed hard and searched him with her power, finding only Jonah. But Dillon was tricky. “No,” she said, knowing she sounded breathless. When he stepped closer, she backed up. She didn’t want to touch him, didn’t want him touching her, and that made her even angrier.
“Mistress?”
Patricia took a deep breath and straightened her clothes. She was in charge; she had to remember that. “Was there something you needed, Jonah?”
He gestured toward the wall. “Do you want to take a closer look? I think it’s going well.”
“Of course.” She climbed down on shaky legs. The miners would be happy to see her, and maybe that would improve her mood. She could do this. Dillon was behind a telepathic wall. It wasn’t optimal, but she could maintain it for a while. It wouldn’t be forever. She simply had to find a way to purge him, and she had an eternity to figure out how.
* * *
Pool wanted to leave at first light. That left Cordelia one more night where she’d definitely be alive. She didn’t want to waste it. And by the way Nettle returned her passionate kisses, they were of the same mind.
Even though they had all night ahead, their lovemaking was hurried and fiery. Cordelia didn’t mind. Nettle didn’t seem to mind, either. It just left time to do it again. And it was better than arguing. Nettle had insisted on going with Pool and Cordelia to fight the Shi. No amount of talk would dissuade her. Cordelia had eventually given up trying. Maybe it would be romantic if they died together.
Cordelia snorted a laugh as she had that thought. She and Nettle lay tangled together in their dark cubby, both breathing hard and still awake. “Maybe we should try to sleep.” But she knew she wouldn’t be able.
“You sound worried, Sa. What troubles you?”
“We could both die tomorrow. Pool could die.” She sighed. “The humans we came to rescue might already be dead. You know, the usual.”
Nettle chuckled, and her thin lips pressed to Cordelia’s temple. “I have the solution. We will be quick and sure in our strikes, and we will not lose. Simple.”
Cordelia grinned. “Right. Simple. Now I can sleep fully reassured.” She turned and rested her forehead against Nettle’s chin. “You could stay here.”
“As could you.”
“I feel like you’re only going because I am.”
“They are my people, Sa. And you have never forced me to do anything, except perhaps love you, and that you do by your sheer presence.”
Cordelia kissed her soundly. “I love you, my drushka who says incredibly romantic things.”
“And I you, my human who never knows what to say yet says the perfect words.”
They kissed again, and Cordelia pulled Nettle on top of her.
“Are you awake?” Horace asked in Cordelia’s mind.
Cordelia let her head drop, thumping against the bark. “Horace is talking in my head.”
Nettle grumbled. “Liam would call him a specific word, but I cannot recall it.”
“Cock-blocker.”
“That is the one.”
“I’m up, Horace,” Cordelia thought back. “But you probably already knew that.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but the paladins are restless. Lea told them about the underwater plan, but he’s…not so good at rousing speeches. And now some of them are talking about trying to head back to Gale on their own, and some want to come with you.” He sent her a sigh of frustration. “And someone brought some mead from Gale, and it’s making the rounds, and the grumbling’s following it.”
“I get it. I’m on my way.” She felt around for her clothes. “I’ve got to go soothe some human fears.”
“While still feeling your own.” She squeezed Cordelia’s hand. “Ahya, that is the fate of the hunt leader. Would that they had a queen to calm them.”
Cordelia snorted, not even wanting to picture how that would work. She was closely attached to Pool, and it freaked her out sometimes. She didn’t want to think what that kind of contact would do to someone who wasn’t used to drushka at all. “Get some sleep while I’m gone.”
“Ahwa, no, Sa! I am coming with you. You may need the busting of heads, as you say, and I will assist you.”
Cordelia had to laugh. At least most of the troops were familiar with Nettle, even if they didn’t spend much time with Pool. They’d take a head busting from her better than any other drushka. Cordelia only hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.
The paladins who hadn’t initially gone rogue with Cordelia were grumbling loudest, all but Lea. Most of them still wore armor, even though they didn’t have a charge. They stared into the darkness, at the drushka, and scowled, arguing about what they should do. They’d been fine when they’d had powered armo
r, but now that it had been taken away, they’d lost their mettle.
Cordelia bit down the urge to tell them to get over it. Lea barked at them to do one task or other—most seemed like busywork—but they didn’t appreciate that, either. Cordelia plastered a smile on her face and moved through them, clapping backs, giving the armor-wearers shit until they took the damn suits off. She shamed them into cleaning the armor in order to keep it as functional as possible. She brought Nettle into her joking, and Nettle kept a relaxed, casual air that drew in the paladins familiar with her and helped ease those who weren’t.
Some paladins had whispered questions or loud suggestions for Cordelia, and she deflected most until they’d settled into a happier mood, more willing to listen. She let the mead continue to flow, getting a cup herself and making several obscene toasts that might have made even Lea crack a smile.
Some of Pool’s drushka joined in, and some had questions for Nettle, too. Cordelia grinned at that, glad she wasn’t the only one who had uneasy troops.
“Hunt leader,” one drushka asked, “how should we answer a challenge from the old drushka, should one come?”
Nettle stared into the distance before spreading her hands. “Very dangerous, ahya, to fight among ourselves with so much at stake. Even if the challenge is to rightful authority, better to say, ‘Have your queen speak to mine,’ and leave it to them to untangle.”
The drushka seemed mollified, wrinkling his nose. Maybe having a queen wouldn’t be so bad after all. But as it was, Cordelia circled through her troops again, reassuring them. They had to trust Lea and the other lieutenants, those who had worn unpowered armor and knew its limits. She thanked those who wanted to go with her to attack the Shi but stressed the fact that it would be a quick and dirty mission, better suited to a very small group. She tried to leave them with the impression that she’d have less to worry about if they weren’t there.
As for those who simply wanted to go home, Cordelia resisted the urge to bark at them about duty. That was something Carmichael might have done. Cordelia said they didn’t have to be paladins anymore if they didn’t want to, told them that she wanted only those who were committed to the cause at her side. She told them how dangerous the swamp was to trek through alone, and as Pool’s drushka agreed, they seemed to relax. She warned all the humans to steer clear of the old drushka, just in case. Good advice, as few old drushka spoke Galean anyway. In the end, she thought a few paladins might sit out the fight, while others seemed more motivated to earn her respect.
By the time everyone settled for the night, Cordelia felt lighter in her own thoughts and crawled into bed with Nettle, exhausted.
In the morning, she gave her paladins one last look-over. Lea had them up and dressed, and they knew the plan. Pool would park her tree close enough for the enemy queens to sense her presence. Without Pool aboard, the tree wouldn’t be able to maneuver, but it could come if she called. The sixth and third queens would lure drushka into the swamp toward the humans. The paladins would fire at the enemy, leap into the water to avoid them, come up behind them, refill their helmets with air, and attack again. Meanwhile, the third and sixth queens would move farther into the swamp, leading as many enemy drushka as they could away from Pool’s path. The second queen would move closer to the Shi, ready to aid Pool’s party should they need her.
Pool put her forehead to her trunk as they prepared to leave. “I have not been so far from the Anushi tree in a great many years.”
Cordelia didn’t know what to say. She’d taken one of the remaining batteries that had a charge and plugged it into her armor, powering it up, hoping it would last through the day. “If you want to call this off, Pool, you’d better tell me now.”
Pool straightened and turned. “No. The tree will be well. No drushka would harm it, and none can control it while I live.”
Cordelia nodded and lowered her visor. “We’ll keep them off you, Pool, no matter what.”
“Always, we must keep running,” Nettle said.
Reach climbed up to join them. After much debate, Pool had decided to bring a shawness along, just as Cordelia thought. She only wished Pool had picked someone else, someone Cordelia didn’t care as much about. She probably should have been guilty about that thought, but her eagerness was creeping up, rivaling her worry. She slung her railgun around her shoulders. Today, no matter what, she’d see an end to at least one problem. She just had to make sure it was the Shi’s end and not her own.
Or Pool’s or Reach’s or Nettle’s. Easy.
“The tribe is ready,” Reach said.
Pool turned to the swamp, gaze fixed and intense.
Cordelia took a deep breath and sent a thought to Horace. “We’re leaving.”
“Be safe. We’ll be waiting.”
She didn’t even have time to respond before Pool’s tree grabbed the four of them and flung them into the swamp. Cordelia’s stomach lurched as she flew, but she held in a terrified, exhilarated cry. Pool, Nettle, and Reach stretched like birds who’d taken wing, but Cordelia had to depend on the armor to absorb the shock of landing on a faraway branch. She rolled when she hit, pushing to her feet and running before leaping again. She spared a few looks for the others, moderating her speed to keep just in front of Pool, who directed them with her thoughts. Cordelia grinned at the wild charge. Even when she’d fought the boggins in her armor, she’d never flown through the swamp like this.
The four of them ran and leapt again and again, the brown trunks of the swamp trees flying past. For a moment, Cordelia thought their plan had worked better than imagined, and the old drushka had been thoroughly distracted. Maybe they wouldn’t encounter any resistance at all. Cordelia nearly let out a joyful whoop, then she saw them, waiting.
“Here we go,” she muttered.
Drushka crouched along the branches ahead. Not many, but there would be more. Pool had warned her that the bulk of them would be protecting the Shi, even if many were lured out by the promise of combat. Cordelia ran straight into them, bowling them over. She barely slowed and felt Pool pull up close, using Cordelia as a shield.
As more drushka leapt from the trees to slow her charge, Cordelia drew her sidearm and fired. Some ran from the shot, and others fell, wounded. More came from the surrounding swamp, drawn by the noise. As the press before them grew, Pool shouted, “Down!”
Cordelia leapt off the branch, carried by her faith in Pool. The swampy water had given way to solid earth, and as Cordelia plummeted—Pool, Nettle, and Reach around her—her fear peaked. She wondered just how much shock her armor could absorb if no one caught them.
As if summoned, the second queen’s roots broke the ground and snagged Cordelia out of the air. She kept her arms to the side as they drew her under, flinging her through the earth and around the roots of the swamp trees. She hated this mode of transport, but at least she didn’t have to feel the dirt sliding over her skin, bruising her. Instead, it rattled over her armor in a deafening din.
Sunlight bloomed as the roots threw her into the light. They flung her toward a swamp tree’s branch, the world tilting crazily. Cordelia scrambled for purchase, her stabilizers whining. Pool’s shove on her back got her going in the right direction again, and a quick glance revealed that they were still together, though far from where they’d been. Together, they skirted another tree, heading for what looked like a wall of foliage: trees and vines twisted so closely that it seemed impassable, but Pool urged them through.
Cordelia crashed through the foliage to find she was closer to the ground than she’d thought. The branch beneath her tapered and ended, leaving a short fall to solid, grassy earth and the bright sunlight of a valley amidst the swamp. She blinked in the light and nearly stumbled to a halt. If Pool hadn’t been shoving, she would have simply stared at the tree before her.
Could she even call it a tree? It had to be a mountain. Brown branches and green leaves meant tree, but no tree had ever been this large. It stood in a bowl-shaped valley, spreading its boughs f
or a mile or more. Some branches grew straight down, supporting a massive canopy that sprouted out of a trunk so large, her brain kept wanting to make it into stone.
Two other trees moved beneath the canopy, dwarfed by the massive tree, though they would be much larger than even Pool’s Anushi. The behemoth made them seem like matchsticks. It became easier to run than to stare, to simply pretend that what she was seeing couldn’t be real. It was easier to look into the ocean of drushka that stood between them and the mountainous tree. Cordelia’s stomach dropped out beneath her. This plan was never going to work. There was nothing in this valley but death.
Strangely, the idea rallied her. She ached at the thought of losing Pool, Reach, and Nettle, but…she’d seen the impossible now! Nothing would ever match this. Nothing could. And she’d go down fighting. She only hoped that one day, Liam would forgive her.
Chapter Eleven
Fajir knelt in the tent, eyes closed, and hands bound behind her. She smelled the scent of Engali vermin: the stink of ossors and bitter tea, of sweat and leather and too much time between washings. Her hands twitched as she imagined slaughtering them all.
After she’d recovered from Nico’s abandonment, she’d ridden north, not caring which vermin she found as long as she found some. When she’d seen the two women alone, she thought it a perfect opportunity. But the redhead had avoided her strikes, and the dark-haired one had power like the Moon’s. It wasn’t until afterward that she’d realized she should have recognized the yafanai she’d once stabbed, but rage had clouded her eyes. Now she was a prisoner of the vermin. If Nico had been with her, he would have turned from her in shame.
Hadn’t he already?
Fajir shook the thought away. After the vermin caught her, she’d hoped they would kill her so she wouldn’t have to listen to them. But now she was sweating in this tent, and the vermin would not shut their mouths. She’d been questioned by an old man, but none of her answers seemed to satisfy him. He’d kept wanting to know why she hated his clan so much, even after she’d told him.
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